


Cruel World (A Sequel To: Jailbait)

by PAPERSK1N



Series: Skins!Verse [2]
Category: Skins (UK), Supernatural
Genre: (not cas), Abuse, Alcohol, Angst, Boys Kissing, Cas is Effy, Castiel is Castielle, Dark Character, Dark fic, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Gen, Genderbend, Genderswap, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Suicide, Multi, Other, Pills, Sad, Self Harm, Sequel, Sex, Smut, Teen Pregnancy, but also comedy, dark!fic, some character death, sort of, sort of not, sort of skins, trigger warnigns, typical skins related drama, you don't have to know anything about skins to read this i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:43:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1967670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAPERSK1N/pseuds/PAPERSK1N
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months later.</p><p>- I highly recommend you read the beginning of this story, Jailbait, first. This is a sequel. -</p><p>Six months, for the group of teens is a long, long time.</p><p>Things are far from perfect: Sam and Gabriel are facing more issues than they expected, Dean's worried about Cas, Jo has a big problem, that she needs to tell someone about, Garth is just trying to ignore everything with a goofy joke and a bottle of vodka (but what's that pounding in the back of his head?). Meg returns, and Crowley? Crowley's always right around the corner.</p><p>A story following the lives of Dean, Sam, Castielle and Gabriel (along with their friends) and their fucked up lives. It really is a Cruel World.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cruel World (A Sequel To: Jailbait)

**Author's Note:**

> So i found a USB with an updated version of this fic, extra content etc etc. I even found my plans for the rest of the story! Wether i get around to writing more of what I had planned, I'm not sure, but if i decide I'm not going to, I'll publish my notes at least. Thanks to all the readers who followed this story!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel persuades Sam to take him out. Castielle makes a deal with the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating this, like ever. To be honest, i had no motivation to write this story, and threw myself into other works. But, Cruel World is back! You can expect about 10 chapters from this sequel. It's gonna get crazy.

Chapter One: Sam, Gabriel, Dean and Cas

In the six months following what everyone only refers to as ‘the incident’, a lot of things changed. And Sam still isn’t quite sure they have changed for the worse or the better.

Recovery, Sam thinks, was (and is still) the hardest part. They all needed to time to move on, the fresh wounds needing to heal, along with so many of the old ones that had been re-opened. Sam is still haunted almost every night with nightmares of Crowley, dark and looming over him. Sometimes, in the dreams, his vision will blur, just for a moment, and Crowley’s face will contort and change, into one Sam thinks he recognises, but just can’t _quite_ _see_.

He doesn't tell Gabriel any of this, because he _can’t_. Because Sam knows Gabriel has his own nightmares.

Sam stays with Gabriel every night he can, ignoring the disapproving glares from Chuck, and the too-long stares from Becky. But after the first two months or so, the pair become too wrapped up in arguing at each other to notice Gabriel’s room slowly turning into _theirs._ Sam soon realises he has stayed more nights over the past few months in Gabriel’s bed, with his arms wrapped tightly around the trickster, than in his own room, at Bobby and Ellen’s house.

(Sam doesn’t go back to his- _Dean’s_ house anymore. He can't)

Sam trusts Gabriel, of course, with everything he has. He loves Gabriel more than he ever thought he could love someone who wasn’t family. But he can’t quite bring himself to confide in Gabriel about his bad dreams, the scabs littering his memories that are too tempting not to pick.

(Dean tells him one time that the scabs and the blackouts scattered through his mind are probably there for a reason, hiding things that Sam doesn’t want to see. Sam thinks his brother might be right, but he just _can't_ leave it alone)

Still, Sam doesn’t tell Gabriel. Because Gabriel has nightmares of his own.

It’s like a routine now, for Sam. Every night, between the hours of 2am and 4am, Sam is awake, waiting for Gabriel. The routine varies every night, but the outcome is generally the same. Some nights, the golden boy will suddenly bolt upright, a hot sweat on his forehead and tears in his eyes. Sam has given up trying to ask what’s wrong, because Gabriel will just shake his head, wipe his eyes, and go back to sleep. Other times, he’ll scream and thrash in his sleep, in an oddly comatose state, so that Sam can’t wake him. Instead, Sam will hold him down tightly to stop him moving, whispering in Gabriel’s ear that he’s _here_ and he’s _safe_ , whether he thinks Gabriel can hear him or not.

And just as Gabriel manages to calm down, Sam will gently reach a hand out, lightly stroking the scar at Gabriel’s abdomen. Almost completely healed, no matter what Sam tries to tell them both. He rubs it with a feather-light touch, and it is now almost a comfort, for the both of them- Sam likes to think.

(Usually for this, Gabriel is awake every time he pretends to fall asleep. And every touch there reminds him of Lucifer, touching him, dragging his hands up Gabriel’s body, piercing his skin with a silver blade. But Gabriel doesn’t say. He never _says_ anything. Because once he opens up one wound… he’s worried what else might spill out)

The six months are hard, for the both of them, and what makes them harder… is that they haven’t had sex.

And Gabriel wants to, Sam _knows_ that. And Gabriel knows how to make himself heard. He’ll rub past Sam closer than necessary whenever he’s in the house, which is a lot more often since Gabriel dropped out of college. When they go to bed at night, Gabriel will back up as close to Sam as he can get, his ass rubbing into his partners crotch, shifting just slightly. And Sam has to thing of the most awful things he can imagine to stop himself from getting a hard-on. His will-power is incredible.

Sometimes, Gabriel will just ask outright.

“Sam, I’m horny- let’s have sex.”

And Sam will sigh, clutching one hand into a fist, and try to think of a good enough reason that he hasn’t used already.

_“Gabe, you’re still healing- Doc said you’ve gotta be careful that you don’t tear your stitching out.”_

_“Gabe, it’s late- I’m tired and so are you.”_

_“But Gabe, Chuck and Becky are in the next room. They’ll hear.”_

_“Gabe, I-I’ve got to study, I’m so behind!”_

But sometimes, of course, Sam lets himself cave. Slowly and gently, he’ll jerk Gabriel off, kissing him soundly to swallow his gasped moans. He’ll go down on him in the dead of the night, letting his boyfriend fuck his mouth, pull his hair, whatever he wants, because Gabriel deserves it. And of course, Gabriel will try and reciprocate, but most of the time, Sam will find some way to finish himself off, whispering into Gabriel’s ear how beautiful he is, and how lucky Sam is to have him.

But they don’t have _sex_ , not once, since the first time. Because Sam knows, they’re both too broken. They’re both damaged goods. And Sam can’t quite bring himself to do it. Gabriel is far from healthy, from a mental perspective, and to be honest, neither is he. Sam doesn’t know if he’s scared for Gabe, or for himself.

“But _Sam,_ ” Gabriel whines, sitting up on his knees in front of Sam, who is standing just next to the bed. He reaches up, curling his fingers around the long hair at the nape of Sam’s neck, and staring up into his eyes. “I’m _bored._ ”

Sam grins. “And you can’t think of any other way to pass the time?” he asks, sarcasm laced through his voice. Gabriel smirks, and shakes his head.

Leaning forwards, Sam plants a quick, chaste kiss on Gabriel’s lips, before taking a step backwards. “I can’t, okay. I have class to get to! It’s my first day back, remember?”

Gabriel sighs, and sits back down, crossing his legs. “Fine.” He says, looking away, to the floor. “I'll guess see you later Sam.” He mumbles.

Sam walks towards the door, and can’t quite bring himself to look back. Because he has seen the image of Gabriel, slouched on the bed, head in his hands too many times. And every single time, it hurts.

oOo

Sam climbs down the stairs, and out of the door without another word, and tries to block out the sound of Chuck and Becky arguing in the kitchen. He does shoot a small smile towards Cas, who sits between the two adults, absentmindedly stirring a bowl of cereal. She looks up to him, but makes no effort of acknowledgement.

Dean’s impala pulls up outside the Novak residence, and Sam exits immediately, before climbing into the front seat.

“You picking up Cas today?” Sam asks his brother, who is staring at the closed door.

“What, you couldn’t ask her yourself?” Dean snaps, turning his head back as they pull away from the curb. Sam just shrugs his shoulders.

“She doesn’t say much. Not to me, anyway.”

“Well, the answer is no.” Dean deadpans, speeding up slightly. “Her school called Chuck, because of all her lates and absences. So he drives her now, apparently.” Dean’s fingers tighten slightly on the wheel as he says this, and Sam pretends not to notice.

“Really?” he asks. “I hardly think Chuck is in any kind of position to drive Cas to school, when all he does these days is argue with Becky, and then drink enough to forget all about it” he scoffs.

Dean raises an eyebrow. “So, things aren’t all sunshine and rainbows at Casa Novak then, contrary to popular belief?”

Sam just laughs.

“And how’s things with shortstack?” Dean asks. Sam squirms slightly in his seat, leaning back and sighing. He doesn’t answer.

“Come on, dude, don’t do this.” Dean says, pulling to a stop at a traffic light. “I barely see you these days, and I think I at least deserve an answer to what’s gotten you all up in a mood for the past six fucking months. What’s the matter with you, you need to get laid or something?”

Sam sighs again, clasping his fingers together. “Dean, things aren’t… easy, with Gabe. After everything that happened, he’s just- I’ve just… been worried, you know.” Sam turns his gaze back out to the open road as he continues, not quite able to look his brother in the eye.

“Worried?” Dean questions. “What about?”

“He has nightmares, Dean, every single night. Sometimes, I can't even wake him up, and I have to lie awake, listening to him scream, and cry. His mood changes like the flick of a switch. One minute, he’ll be fine, almost like his old self and then… he’ll be crying. And he won't stop, Dean. He just won’t stop, for hours and hours. And he won’t tell me what about. Something happened to him, back with Lucifer. Something changed, and he won’t tell me. And then, it’s just like we’re both getting more and more annoyed at each other and… well, I guess it also doesn’t help that we haven’t- you know. Since, well… since the night of Benny’s party.” Sam explains, looking out of the window.

“Wait, you haven’t got fucking laid since _then_?” Dean asks incredulously. It’s something that (thankfully) distracts him, from the worrying fact that Sam’s description of Gabriel reminded him way too much of Cas.

Sam shrugs. “We’ve, you know, done _stuff_ , but just not… _that_. Only ever that one time.”

“Why not?”

Sam furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean, _why not?_ Dean, Gabe at the moment he’s… he’s fragile. Both mentally, _and_ physically. I can’t be the one to hurt him, alright? I can’t do that. Not to Gabe.”

“Sammy,” Dean sighs. “Are you afraid for Gabe, or are you just afraid for yourself?”

Things quickly become silent and awkward between the brothers, as Dean pulls into the college’s car park. Sensing that his brother probably wants to change the subject, Dean asks, “Hey, you wanna just reverse out of here and skip the day?”

Sam sighs, and shakes his head. “Thanks but- I’m already five months behind. And I promised Bobby. I think he’ll kill me if I don’t show today.”

“Suit yourself.” Dean shrugs, watching Sam climb out the car.

“What about you?” Sam asks. Dean scrunches his nose. “Dude, I’m ahead on most of my assignments, and Bobby knows I know the parts of a car just as well as he does. I’m gonna go see Cas.”

“But, I thought Chuck was driving her to school?” Sam asks.

Dean just smiled. “Just because he’s driving her in, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know her own way out.” Is all he says, before reversing and turning around in one swoop, and speeding out of the exit, shouting “Have a good day, Sammy.” Out of the window.

oOo

Chucks car grinds to a stop just inside the school gates, and he turns to Castielle, who’s eyes are still fixed straight ahead.

“Well, here we are Cas,” he says with a smile, awkwardly patting her head. “Promise you’re going to stay in today, the whole day?”

Cas turns to him slowly, and nods, her expression fixed in neutral. Chuck sighs.

“Listen, sweetheart- I know things have been difficult for a while, after- after the incident with you and Gabriel… and- and I know things with me and Becky are probably quite disruptive but… you’re okay, right?”

Castielle nods.

“Good. And there isn’t any problems at school, right? No bullies?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m sorry for worrying and all Cas, but it’s just- we never see you with friends anymore, is all. What about… Dolly, was it? Darcy?”

“Daisy.”

“Yeah, what about Daisy? She hasn’t been around in a long while. Not since before… you know.”

Cas shrugs. “I haven’t seen her since.” She says, and it is somewhat the truth. She hasn’t seen Daisy since that night with Crowley and Lucifer. She tried to ask one of her teachers, but the teacher had just simply smiled and shook her head, saying Daisy had moved somewhere far away.

“Can I go now, Dad? I’m going to be late.” she asks. The quicker she walks through the gates, the quicker Chuck will leave, and the quicker she’ll be able to see _him._

“Right, sorry- of course. Don’t let me keep you.” Chuck says, a worried smile on his face. He leans forwards, kissing Castielle on the forehead as she climbs out the car. “I love you!” he calls to her retreating form, as she walks into the school building.

Just as he reverses the car back through the gates, his phone rings. He fumbles with it for a few seconds, before pressing accept. It’s Becky.

“..And, another thing, I-”

Chuck hangs up the phone.

oOo

Dean sits around in his car outside Cas’ school for around ten minutes before she appears and knocks on the passenger window, a coy smile on her face. Dean unlocks the car, and she slides in, pulling her hat off the top of her head, and letting her dark hair fall out around her.

“Jailbait, shouldn’t you be in class?” He asks, grinning as he pulls out of the curb.

“Shut up Dean.” She says with a half-laugh, reaching to turn the radio up, pulling a few fingers through her hair.

“You sure you're not going to get in any trouble for this?” Dean asks, glancing over to her as she pull a cigarette from her bag, and takes Dean’s Zippo from the glove compartment to light it.

“No more than I’m already in.” she says with a shrug as she winds the window down, before taking a drag. “Still, I couldn’t care less, and neither does my dad.” She lies.

“Yeah, How is he, your dad?” Dean asks, remembering what Sam had said earlier. Cas just shakes her head, and Dean sighs, pulling onto the road. He tries not to watch her inhale the cigarette smoke, and tries to forget the pact they made what feels like a lifetime ago. Giving up smoking is easier said than done, apparently, but it doesn’t stop Dean from feeling nostalgic. He wishes he could go back, back to the start when everything was simple.

Or as simple as it could be, with their lives.

They drive silently for a little while, nothing but the sound of the radio, playing a song Dean doesn’t really know, but Cas hums along to anyway. He thinks he might just prefer her singing over any of his cassette tapes any day.

“I love you.” He says, out of nowhere, surprising both her and himself. She turns to him, tossing the cigarette out of the window and raising her eyebrows, inquisitively. “I do,” Dean continues, eyes fixed on the road. “I don’t know why but… I just don’t think I could live without you.” He says it like it’s the only truth he’s ever known. She says nothing in reply, just smiles and moves her hand over his, curling her fingers gently over his. For now, it is enough.

He pulls into the driveway of his house.

And it is his legally now, because he’s eighteen. He stayed with Bobby and Ellen at first for the comfort, and because of the fact that paperwork is a bitch, but mostly for the comfort. But then, suddenly, it was there and it was his.

That old house, with so many memories.

Now, he likes to think, it’s _theirs._

Sam doesn’t stay, not ever, because he can’t. It hurts him too much. He spends his time between Gabe’s and Bobby’s leaving Dean in the house alone. Except for when she stays.

She’ll sneak out of her front door in the dead of the night, and creep back in in the morning. Some days, she won't bother going back, and Dean will be content to just hold her, all through the day. They’ll smoke and drink, and do things they’re not proud of- and some things they are.

But as he follows in behind her, watching her strip off her uniform until she’s in her underwear before laying down on the couch, fumbling in her bag for another cigarette, Dean can’t help but think of Sam’s words.

 

_“He has nightmares, every night. Sometimes, I can't even wake him up, and I have to lie awake, listening to him scream, and cry. His mood changes like the flick of a switch. One minute, he’ll be fine, almost like his old self and then… he’ll be crying. And he won't stop, Dean. He just won’t stop, for hours and hours. And he won’t tell me what about.”_

Dean thinks of all of the nights he’s been woken up by Cas, tossing and turning, whimpering, calling his name.

_“Dean, Dean! Please, I need you- please, don’t go.”_

And when she eventually wakes up, she’ll turn over, and go back to sleep, as if nothing ever happened. And he’ll be the one left lying awake, tracing patterns across her back and her arms with his fingers, stroking her hair, and inhaling her scent, reminding himself that she’s here, and safe, and that nothing bad is ever going to happen.

These are the lies he tells himself every night. He sits beside her on the couch, allowing her to rest her head in his lap, taking the cigarette from her lips, and placing it between his own. He strokes her hair, and thinks of all the times he’s walked into his own room, and seen her sitting there, sobbing quietly. She’ll never tell him why, just climb into his lap, resting her face against his chest as he runs his hand soothingly up her back and through his hair. When she’s like that, it reminds him how young she really is.

He thinks of all the missed calls, all the text messages and voicemails she’s left him when she’s drunk, barely comprehensible, just crying and ‘I love you’ over and over. He saves every single one, but never asks her about them. He already knows what she’d say.

He tries not to think of the fact that she only ever tells him she loves him when she’s drunk or high, and only ever says that she _needs_ him. He hopes that when she says she needs him, she means it, because he needs her. He needs her more than anything.

He doesn’t remember how they got into this position, him bracing himself on the couch, one hand gripped tightly in her hair, and the other curling over the arm of the couch as she sucks him off, fast and sloppy, the most _delightful_ wet sounds coming from her mouth.  He lasts barely a few minutes before he shoots, hard and fast, into her warm, inviting mouth. She grins as she sits up, wiping a stray bit of his cum from the corner of her mouth. She climbs into his lap, straddling his hips, allowing him to kiss her.

He can still taste himself on her tongue, but he doesn’t care, because kissing Cas… it’s like being taken to another world. He doesn’t want to know where she learnt all of her tricks. He doesn’t care.

Slowly, he lowers one hand and catches her by surprise, slipping one finger into her quickly-dampening underwear, and her breath hitches just as he grazes across her slit.

But then, Sam’s words flash through his mind again, about Gabriel. And he really doesn’t want to be thinking about Cas’ big brother during this. But he can’t stop wondering how similar the siblings are. _Is_ he doing more damage to Cas than help?

“Why did you stop?” she pants, and he realises he had ceased his movements, and his hand was just resting in the rim of her panties. Her lips attached to his neck, sucking and biting. Suddenly, he is reminded of Lucifer.

He needs to mark her, show the world she's his. He’s conflicted, between his two instincts, to continue, or to stop.

“Cas?” he asks quietly, mouthing at her shoulder. “Is this really what you want?”

She sits upright. “What do you mean?” she asks.

“I mean- if, if you didn't want to- you’d tell me, right?”

She squirms, slightly and her eyes narrow. “Dean, are you trying to tell me that _you_ don’t want this?” she asks. His eyes widen, and he shakes his head quickly. “No, Cas, I- _of course_ I want this, I always do- but, it’s just something Sam said, it doesn’t matter. Just, if you didn't, you’d tell me, right?” he asks again.

She sighs, but nods. “Of course. Now, are we gonna continue, or- _oh._ ”

He tries not to feel guilty as he skilfully works his digits into her heat, leaving her a quivering, moaning mess, rolling her hips expertly against his, making sure he hits _all_ the right spots. She comes with a shout, leaning her head back, and he has to quickly remove his hand and hold her by the small of her back so she doesn’t fall, before she flops forwards, resting her head in the crook of his neck. His hands settle on her ass, squeezing lightly.

“You okay?” he asks.

She nods. “Better than ever.”

oOo

Sam knows he needs to talk to Gabriel. All day, through classes, he can't stop thinking about _everything_ , and Dean’s words ring in his mind. Maybe he is scared. so what? Gabriel deserves to know.

Sam can barely stomach the thought of Gabriel, thinking that Sam doesn’t _want_ him, like that.

He can hardly admit to himself the amount of times he’d cast his mind back to that night, that one _blissful_ night. Feeling himself encased by Gabriel’s tightness, hearing the both of them, moaning and sighing, speeding towards their release together…

Maybe Gabriel is ready. Maybe he’s the one that isn’t.

As soon as the bell rings to signal the end of his final class, he’s off, hurrying out of the building. He doesn’t bother calling Dean for a ride because Dean is probably busy doing things he doesn’t want to _think_ about considering they’re with his boyfriends younger sister. However, Sam feels slightly relieved that Cas is sixteen now. At least Dean can fuck her legally.

But he doesn’t want to think about Dean and Castielle fucking. He needs to talk to Gabe. Thankfully, Benny gives him a ride in his old pickup truck, and they chug through the streets just slightly faster than walking speed. Benny tries to initiate conversation a few times, but Sam remains silent the whole journey, just thinking.

He has a whole speech planned out in his head, of what he wants to say. He recites t over and over as he walks towards the front door, letting himself in with the spare key Castielle keeps under the mat for her night time adventures, making sure he goes unnoticed as he replaces it, before slipping into the house.

He runs up the stairs two at a time, before bursting into Gabriel’s room and… stopping.

Because there is blood on the sheets, and a razor between Gabriel’s fingers, along with several empty bottles strewn on the bed and the floor. Sam doesn’t hesitate before lurching across the room, tackling Gabriel into the bed. He tosses the razor out of the open window, and clutches Gabriel’s face in his hands.

“Sam…” Gabriel mumbles, head hanging slightly. His cheeks are streaming with tears, which Sam desperately tries to dry with harsh kisses to his face.

“Gabe, please, no.” Sam pants out desperately. He feels like he’s just walked into a nightmare. Any moment, he’s going to roll over and wake up, Gabriel sleeping beside him. But after another moment of Gabriel’s head lolling, and some slurred incomprehensible speech from him, Sam realises this isn’t a dream. This is real.

He clutches Gabriel’s thigh in his hands, scanning the damage which is, thankfully, minimal.

 Three shallow cuts lay in a short line at the top of Gabriel’s thigh, by his hip. But still, it’s too much. Gabriel himself, just sways slightly as Sam tries to hold him steady, and slurs, “’m sorry Sammy.” As Sam wraps his arms around him, locking the two in a tight embrace.

oOo

They stay like that for hours, until all the blood tries, and every tear has been shed. Gabriel remains silent, but Sam suddenly can’t stop talking, can’t stop telling Gabriel how perfect he is and how much he loves him, until eventually, Gabriel nods, and apologises.

Then, Sam tells Gabriel he doesn’t need to apologise, that it’s all _his_ fault, and _he’s sorry_. He doesn’t provide any more explanation for his actions than that, and Gabriel doesn’t speak again. He stays until eventually Gabriel falls asleep, leaving Sam to sit on the side of his bed, just watching him. It still doesn’t quite feel real, like a bad dream, but before Sam can contemplate further, Gabriel’s bedroom door creaks open.

Sam turns to see Chuck, leaning in the doorframe, unlit cigarette between his fingers.

“Hey, kid. Get the fuck out of here.” Chuck grunts, glaring at him as he pulls a box of matches out of his pocket, striking one.

“I-uh,” Sam sends one last look at Gabriel, before swallowing, trying to clear his throat. “I'll go.”

“Yeah. You will.” Chuck deadpans, lighting his cigarette. Sam can’t help but notice how tired Gabriel’s father looks as he sees him out the door. Chuck has bags under his eyes, that look heavier than his thick manuscript, which has laid abandoned on the kitchen table for the past few weeks. His beard is scruffy and wiry, his hair long and greasy. He doesn’t look happy as he follows Sam down the stairs. He doesn’t look like he feels anything anymore.

He slams the front door shut behind Sam, who sets off at a slow pace down the street. He can’t stop thinking of Gabriel. He can’t let Gabriel hurt himself like this, not anymore, but Sam doesn’t know what to do. His speech from earlier has tumbled out of his mind, leaving nothing but empty space, along with this images of Gabriel, crying and covered in blood that Sam doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. He tries to tell himself, He’ll call him tonight, or maybe tomorrow, and they can talk, right?

But Sam knows Gabriel better than anyone does. And when Gabriel makes stupid, drunken decision, he’ll go on and pretend like nothing ever happened. Sam huddles more into his jacket, furiously wiping at the tears on his cheek.

There’s a slight chill in the air, and the first few spots of rain begin. Sam pulls his hood up over his head, and tucks his arms under his armpits. Despite… _everything_ , he can't quite shake the feeling that someone’s watching him.

He doesn’t notice the one black car, sticking out slightly on the other side of the street. He doesn’t see Crowley inside, a cigarette between his lips, and his hands clasped tightly together. Crowley watches him for a moment, before winding up his window, and driving away.

 

Chapter Two: Sam and Gabriel, Cas and Crowley

Sam is at the Novak’s front door at seven am the next morning. He is well aware of Chuck, glaring at him through the living room window as he fumbles under the mat for the spare key. He ignores Chuck’s bearing eyes, and walks straight into the house.

Becky sits at the kitchen table, and looks up to acknowledge him. She smiles, and her eyes light up brighter than Sam has seen them in months. “Hey Sam!” she calls cheerfully, quickly putting out her cigarette and standing. She rushes through the hallway to greet him.

Sam grimaces slightly, before muttering out an uncomfortable “Hello.”

Something about Becky, even more so recently, unnerves him. It’s the way that despite the chaos, the dirt building up in the house, the cold look in Chuck’s eyes and the peeling wallpaper, she still manage to look so… _bright._

“How’ve you been?” she asks.

“Good.” Sam nods, before heading up the stairs. For some reason, every time he ends up in conversation with Becky, all he can feel is her eyes, burning into him. So he avoids her, leaving her at the bottom of the stairs, frowning. He pretends not to notice as she slinks back into the kitchen, lighting up another cigarette. The bright spark is gone.

Sam walks straight into Gabriel’s room, and doesn’t bother knocking. His boyfriend is sat on the bed, cross legged and undressed, flicking through a book of poem’s Sam doesn’t recognise. His eyes flit up as Sam walks in, and he smiles.

“Hey Sammich.” He greets him, watching Sam approach the bed. Sam remains silent, his posture unsure. He sits down slowly next to him, and his hand goes out to Gabriel’s thigh, just resting where the three cuts still remain, scar tissue forming. Gabriel pretends not to notice how feather-light an unsure Sam’s touch is.

Gabriel kisses his boyfriend on the cheek once, before shifting away from his unsure embrace and walking to the other side of the room, examining clothes from his closet.

“Well, you’re awful quiet today.” He comments, pulling out a t-shirt and examining it in the mirror.

“I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” Sam explains, as his eyes follow Gabriel around the room.

“Anything I can do?” Gabriel asks, raising an eyebrow. Sam shakes his head.

“No-I…” he stops himself, and turns completely on the bed, facing Gabriel again. “Gabe.” He calls.

“Hm?” Gabriel replies, but he doesn’t turn away from the mirror. He doesn’t look Sam in the eye.

“Gabriel, look at me.” Sam says, being sure to keep his voice steady.

Gabriel sighs, and turns, before slipping the t-shirt on over his head and looking Sam dead in the eyes.

“Are you okay?” Sam asks, voice laced with concern. Gabriel smiles.

“I’m _fine_ Sam, quit worrying! I’m finally getting things back on track!”

For a second, Sam sees a flash of the old Gabriel, as he watches his boyfriend bounce around the room, before slipping into a pair of jeans. He runs a hand through his sandy hair, slicking it back, and pulls a packet of cigarettes out of the drawer.

“Now, shouldn’t you be in college?”

“I’ve got a little while until my first class. Dean said he’d come pick me up from here in twenty-I just… I just wanted to come see you first, that’s all.” Sam says, glancing down to the floor. He’s torn between disbelief and disappointment as he watches Gabriel carry on like nothing had happened. He wonders if Gabriel even remembers the previous night.

Gabriel rolls his eyes, and takes his seat beside Sam once again.

“Sam, what have I told you?” he asks, taking Sam’s face between his fingers. “I’m fine.” He says with a smile, before planting another kiss on Sam, but this time, to his lips. The kiss lasts a little longer than necessary, and Sam just starts to lean in, when Gabriel pulls back. He gently moves his hand up from Sam’s face into his long hair, running his fingers through it.

“Hey, I love you kiddo.” He says. Sam nods.

“I love you too.”

Gabriel stands, pulling a cigarette out of the box in his back pocket and places it between his lips, turning back to his mirror.

“Anyways Sam, I’ve decided- no more moping around this dump! I haven’t been out in _forever._ And Benny texted me, saying there's some rave party downtown tonight. Thought it sounded like fun.” He shrugs, reaching his mouth with a lighter and lighting the end of the cigarette.

“I don’t know Gabe,” Sam sighs. “Are you sure you really wanna just… jump in at the deep end like that?” Sam asks, walking towards him. “You’ve… you’ve barely been to a house party in the past six months, let alone a rave. I don’t- I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” He says, gently placing a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

Gabriel just rolls his eyes again. “Sam, lighten up, will you? I’m fine, and I’m going, whether you want to come, or not, okay?” he snaps, frowning, and shrugging off from Sam’s touch.

Sam sighs. “Alright, fine. I just want to make sure you're okay!”

“Stop asking me that! I’m fine.” Gabriel says, glancing up at the clock on his wall. “Now, you better go- Dean’ll be round any minute.”

“And what are you gonna do all day?” Sam asks raising his eyebrows. Gabriel locks eyes with his reflection in the mirror.

“Don’t you worry about me Sam. I'll find something”

oOo

Dean watches his brother with a curious stare as he leaves Gabriel’s house, shooting a condescending smile at Chuck through the window. He practically marches down the steps and into the car, slamming the door roughly.

“Hey, watch it!” Dean snaps. Sam sighs.

“Sorry.” He apologises, but his tone is flat and hardly convincing. Dean frowns.

“What’s up with you?”

Sam leans his head back and looks back to Gabriel’s house. “It’s nothing.” He states. “I’m fine.”

Dean scoffs. “Sammy. I know you better than anyone. Fuck, I practically _raised_ you. Don’t insult me with that ‘I’m fine’ bull.”

Sam turns to Dean and rolls his eyes. He knows his brother is annoyingly right, as usual.

“Is it Gabriel?” Dean asks, catching eyes with Cas in the top window. She smirks at him, before disappearing. He can’t bring himself to match her smile.

“Who else?” Sam huffs as they pull away. “He… he did something stupid.”

“Stupid?”

“Stupid.”

“Stupid like the time he tried to wrestle Benny or stupid like the November skinny-dipping incident?”

Sam laughs at this. “God, I never knew a person could turn so blue.”

“That’s Gabe.” Dean shrugs. “But still, what’s he done?”

“I can't- I won't- I’m not gonna say what he did exactly but… it was bad Dean. And he was drunk… and now he’s doing that thing where he acts like it never happened.”

“Did- did he try and hurt you?” Dean asks, the slightest hint of a threat in his voice. Sam sighs.

“No. he didn't hurt _me.”_

Dean doesn’t press further for questions, and the car ride dwindles into an awkward silence. They pull up in college, and Dean swings the Impala into her usual spot. He doesn’t want to even _think_ what he’s thinking. Not Gabe.

“Oh, there’s some rave tonight. Gabriel wants to go.” Sam says with a wave of his hand as the brothers climb out of the car. “I say wants… he’s going. Which means I’ve gotta go to keep an eye on him. wanna go?”

Dean mulls it over for a second. It’s been a while since any of them have been out. Maybe Cas will enjoy the break from all the madness.

“Sure.” He finally decides. “I'll ask Cas too.”

Sam smirks. “Dude, she probably already knows. She probably knows the host.”

Dean grins. “What you tryin’ to imply about my girl Sammy?” He banters. Sam rolls his eyes playfully.

“You know I didn't mean it like that.” He says with a smile. “I hope she makes it. She’s good for you Dean.” Sam finishes, before hauling his backpack on his shoulder and walking off. Dean tucks his hands in his pockets and smiles.

“Yeah. She sure is.”

oOo

Dean wants to wait before asking her, but caves within an hour, slipping out his phone and hiding it under his desk.

To: Jailbait

Ur brother’s been yacking on about some rave tonight. Thought it sounded kinda cool. Wanna go?

He receives his reply twenty or so minutes later.

From: Jailbait

_Can’t. Busy. Sorry. But I'll see you tomorrow._

To: Jailbait

Busy doing what?

He doesn’t receive another reply in the next half an hour, and sighs, locking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. If he’s lucky, he’ll get a drunken text from her around midnight. If he isn’t, which he _never_ has been, he won't hear from her till morning, maybe later.

oOo

Sam has never been a fan of raves. The music is always just a little too loud and the lights too bright and the dinks too cheap and suspicious looking. There was always something about raves that made him feel on edge and nervous.

It was for these same reasons that Gabriel loved raves.

The boy had his hands in the air, was jumping up and down, moving so frantically to the music Sam was worried he was going to rip open his wound. But Gabriel obviously couldn’t feel it, after the tens of multi-coloured shots he had ingested upon entering.

“Gabriel’s back bitches!” he had shouted upon entering. Sam just rolled his eyes and wondered where the hell Gabriel 2.0 had hatched from.

“Nice to have you back, guys!” Benny had greeted them both, arm around Jo, who was grinning.

“Sammy! You never said you were coming? I so could’ve gotten you to sneak me out, asshole.”

Sam smiled. “Sorry. Had to make sure this idiot got here without-” his breath hitched and he trailed off, glancing to the floor. _Killing himself_ went unspoken. Jo frowned, and Sam Pretended not to notice. “Whatever. Uh, is Dean here yet?”

Jo nodded. “Yeah, he got here about ten minutes before you. No Cas though,” she shrugged. “Apparently she was busy.”

Sam saw Dean not long after, a beer in his hand and a grumpy, unsatisfied look on his face. Sam didn't ask about Cas. Dean didn't ask about Gabriel.

oOo

Sam stays with Gabriel for as long as he can, before his boyfriend is distracted by colours and lights and some random girl who offers him a few pills, and before he can react, Gabriel is gone.

Sick of following behind like a puppy, Sam brings it on himself to have some fun. He dances with Jo and Garth and talks with Benny and banters with Dean, and for a while, it’s almost like the old days. It’s almost like everything that went wrong never went wrong.

It’s almost like there isn’t a glint of worry in Jo’s eyes every time she looks at Benny. It’s almost like Dean doesn’t check his phone every two seconds, obvious by the look on his face that he is thinking about, texting and calling Cas. It’s almost like he doesn’t feel a twist in his gut at the sight of garth, chugging vodka straight from the bottle like nothing can ever hurt him.

It’s almost as if he can see Meg, with blonde hair instead of brown, walking towards him with a crooked grin on her face and a drink in her hand.

And he must be _really drunk_ because this Meg, she stops in front of him and smiles.

“Hello Sammy.”

Everyone swarms around her instantly, and even Gabriel staggers over, stinking of weed and with a tear in his shirt, and a hickey blossoming on his neck that Sam pretends not to notice. Meg grins as Jo pulls her into a tight hug.

“Meg! You never said you were coming back!”

Meg shrugs. “Could never stay away for long, I suppose.”

Sam smiles. “I-How’ve you been?” he asks. She doesn’t say anything, just shrugs again, with her hands tucked into her jeans.

“How was… wherever you moved to?”

“Was the weather good?”

“Good parties?”

“Wanna do shots?”

The group dissolves into excitement and questions and welcoming of the girl they all knew as a friend. Sam stands slightly on the outside, more than perplexed at how quickly things have gone back to ‘normal’

oOo

Castielle walks through the streets like a shadow. Nobody looks. Nobody notices. This is the way things have always been.

The air is chilly and she can feel it, barely, without Dean’s jacket warm on her angled shoulders. Still, she doesn’t let it faze her, and makes her way through the all-too-familiar alley, down the hill, and into the building she knows he works in.

The building she used to work in. the building she swore she’d never work in again.

But then are were a lot of things she swore six months ago that are no longer true.

She lights up a cigarette as she walks up the stairs to his office. She is about to knock when she feels a hot breath on her neck, and forces herself not to squirm.

“Sorry love, but you can’t smoke in here.”

She doesn't shiver or apologize. She takes another drag of her cigarette and says nothing, blowing the smoke softly into Crowley’s face. He glares at her, but leads her into his office anyway.

“Those things’ll kill you, anyway.” He says. She looks down to the ground, and says nothing.

“Please. Sit.” He motions to one of the chairs in front of his desk. She complies, as she always does, and sits in the leather chair, crossing her skinny legs and folding one arm across her front. She doesn’t break eye contact with Crowley, to prove to him that she isn’t scared.

“To be honest, Cas- sorry.” He stops himself. “May I call you Cas?” he doesn’t wait for her lack of an answer, just smirks to himself. “Cas. To be honest, you don’t need to ask. You don’t need to ask me for your job back, it’s yours. You were always one of my favourites, you know that.” He leans forwards on his hands, smiling widely at her.

“Great.” She speaks for the first time, flatly. “When do I start?”

Crowley’s smile falls. “I said, you don’t _need_ to ask. But I still want you too. I want to hear it, Cas.” He paused, relishing in the moment as he pulls a glass bottle of scotch from under his desk and a crystal glass. “I want to hear you beg for my help.”

She swallows thickly. She’d like to think of it as swallowing her pride, but she doesn’t have pride anymore. She barely has her dignity, in her shortest denim shorts and her loosest vest top, asking _Crowley_ for her job back. She looks down to the floor once, as he pulls an ashtray out of his drawer, and places it in front of her. She looks back up into his surprisingly warm eyes, and stubs her cigarette out.

“Please.” She whispers. “Please can I have my job back?”

He smiles. “You don’t even have to ask.”

To him, it’s a joke, and he laughs- once. To her, it is a sentence. Maximum life in prison. Possibilities of death by lethal injection.

“You don’t have to worry about Lucifer, either.” He asks, pouring his drink slowly. “He’s in prison.”

This makes her eyes light up slightly. She leans forwards. “Word on the street was you killed him.”

Crowley looks up at her. “Well,” he breathed. “You should never listen to the word on the street, should you?”

Chapter Three: Dean, Sam and Cas

In the following week, Dean notices a change in Cas. More often than not, she rejects or cancels his plans. She’s always busy- always got a place to be, and it makes him worry. She’s his girlfriend- or at least he thinks she is, these days, he isn’t so sure.

He texts her as often as he can without sounding desperate, but she doesn’t always reply. The time they do spend together is broken and awkward. She barely speaks. They barely touch.

Her drug collection increases, he notices that as he snoops around her bedroom. Her secret stash under her bed grows past what could be called a stash, and he wonders what she’s been doing with so much pot. She hasn’t been smoking it, he knows that by the lack of high phone calls and misspelled texts stating ‘I love you’.

He tries to bring it up to Sam, but his brother is almost equally distant. Dean knows there’s more than meets the eye with him and Gabriel, and he’s more than a little worried. Sam’s… delicate, when it comes to the people he loves.

One particular night, spent alone with a few beers and a few cigarettes in front of the TV, he is surprised to receive a text from Sam.

_From: Sam_

_Can you come pick me up from Gabe’s? Please._

He contemplates texting back, asking what’s wrong, before sighing and realising that nothing will ever get solved over a text message. He drives over to Gabriel’s and finds Sam already outside, tears staining his eyes and his jacket pulled tightly around him. His body lurches into protective mode as he almost slams into the sidewalk, and Sam angrily storms into the car, slamming the door.

Dean looks up to Cas’ bedroom window briefly. She isn’t there.

“You okay?” he asks Sam.

“Just drive. Please.” Sam asks, teeth gritted. “Anywhere. Just drive.”

oOo

They end up in a place Dean never thought he’d go to again. They stop off at a cheap drive-thru, and grab some shitty fast food, before driving out to the field they spent the fourth of July in, so many years ago that Dean still had pimples and Sam’s teeth were crooked.

They drove out, to get away from John really. They drank beers they weren’t allowed to drink and let off fireworks that Dean had bought off the side of the road and were probably far from legal.

They sat on the cars bonnet and looked out at the stars.

But now it was ten years later. It’s harder to see the stars under the harsh city lights. They don’t move from the car, and Dean sees a tear slip down Sam’s cheek.

“Sam.” His voice is hesitant. “Sam, what’s going on?”

Sam wipes his face, almost angrily. “It’s Gabe.” He explains. “We… we had a disagreement.”

“About what?”

“About _everything_. God- Dean… ever since- Gabriel… he’s just _different_. He’s been acting so… _off_ about everything, and he just… he makes me feel like he’s only with me out of pity. Because of what happened… like I’m some fucking charity case and he’s gotta look after me. He treats me like shit- and when I call him out on it, he gets upset. And then he fucking leaves.”

“Where’d he go?” dean asks. Sam shrugs.

“Some club. He went with Cas.”

This makes Dean frown. “He went with _Cas?..._ She told me she was busy.”

Sam scoffs. “Trouble in paradise?” he asks sarcastically. “I’m worried, Dean. About both of them. Maybe both the Novak’s are too fucked up for relationships.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Dean admits, glancing at the steering wheel. He looks to Sam. Do you want me to take you back to Bobby’s… or-”

“Home.” Sam says. “Take me home.”

“Sam, you don’t have to-”

Sam turns to him, tear tracks shining on his face. “Please.” He pleads, voice cracking. “Can we please just go back home?”

oOo

Gabriel hates clubs. Gabriel knows he is supposed to love clubs, he always loved clubs, right? But now he hates them. He hates clubs, he hates raves and he hates parties. It doesn’t help much that those are the only things he’s attended in the past few weeks.

He watches Cas from his place against the wall. People approach him, some looking for drugs and some for cheap and meaningless sex, but he turns them away. He may be sort of mad with Sam, but he isn’t going to cheat on him.

Love is scary, Gabriel decides. It’s hard to love someone so much that it hurts to breathe when they’re around. It’s so much easier, apparently, to drive them away- make them hurt so they don’t realise that you’re hurting too. Gabriel scratches at his thigh nervously. He needs to forget. He needs a distraction.

He looks at Cas, across the club. Money and drugs are exchanged, and he frowns. Cas doesn’t deal, not for herself. Cas has never been one to bother over anything as stupid as money.

Cas has only ever dealt for… Crowley.

Gabriel marches over with all the causality he can manage at the thought of his baby sister being anywhere near that psycho again. He stops and waits for her to finish her exchange, with the boy who has the dark eyes and light hair and the piercing through his nose. He sighs.

“Cas.”

She turns. “You okay?” she asks. He doesn’t answer, and she rests her hand on his shoulder. “You need to speak to Sam. He really loves you, and no offence, but you’re fucking it all up.”

He shakes his head. “Forget me and Sam, for a second.” He nods at the money in her hand. “You’re dealing.”

She nods.

“You're- please tell me you're not… you’re not working for Crowley, are you?”

She stops. She looks him in the eyes, and shakes her head. Castielle has never lied to him before, and he isn’t sure how he feels about it. He knows Cas, he knows when she is lying.

But then, Castielle loves to play games. And nobody plays games better than Gabriel, so he nods his head, and sips his drink.

“Good.” He says. “After what he did to Sam, I never want to see his face again.” He lies. She smiles.

“See. You’re ridiculously in love with Sam. You need to apologize to him, sort everything out.”

He nods his head, partly in agreement and partly with the music. It’s a tacky song with stupidly over-the-top beats, but it’s catchy and he likes the way it feels.

“I’m gonna go dance. We’ll meet back outside around one?”

She nods. “I wouldn’t know any other way.”

OoO

It takes Sam ten minutes to walk in the house. He stands in the doorway of the living room for a while, just looking. Everything is the same, but _the_ chair, _John’s chair_ is gone.

“I threw it out.” Dean explains. “Hit it, kicked it, burned it. And tossed it out. I couldn’t bear to fucking look at it anymore.”

Sam nods, and swallows thickly. “I’m going to bed.” He says. “Don’t wake me for college.”

“Okay. If… if you need me for any- if you wanna just-”

“It’s okay Dean. Thanks for everything.”

Dean nods silently, and watches Sam ascend the stairs. He hears his brother’s bedroom door shut, and releases the breath he didn't realise he was holding. He pulls out his phone, and dials Jo’s number.

“Dean.”

He frowns. “Hello to you too!”

She laughs, but it doesn’t sound genuine nor confident. “Sorry. Hi Dean.”

This is the first thing that concerns Dean. Joanna never apologizes.

“What’s up, Joanna-Beth?” he asks.

“You called me.” She replies. His fist clenches. “And- the sky, dumbass.”

He smiles, relieved. “Good. Listen, I’m worried about Sam.”

“What's going on?” she asks. He runs a hand through his hair.

“Just… shit with Gabriel. He’s really messed up, and he and Sam had a huge fight. I… I think they might break up.”

“Shit.” Jo breathes. “Do you know exactly what it was about?”

“Not really.” Dean says. “Sam just said… everything. They’ve not been… good for a while.”

“Shit.” She repeats. “Is he with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. If he is gonna end things with Gabriel, he’s gonna need you to get him through it. It’s gonna be hard as fuck.”

“I guess both the Novak kids are too fucked up for relationships.” Dean scoffs, flopping down on his couch.

“What do you mean, both?” Jo asks. Dean sighs.

“I’m also worried about Cas.” He admits. “She’s been acting strange too. Distant. Hardly talks to me, and I hardly see her.”

“Great. And let me guess, they’re both together?” Jo asks. Dean barely laughs.

“Nice one, Sherlock. They went out partying, apparently.”

“Best remedy.” Jo says sarcastically. “Both Gabe and Cas are self-destructive. And they’re probably even worse together. They’re both a danger to each other and themselves. Before you and Sam... the only people they loved were each other. They’re not used to that intimacy with another person.”

“But what do I do? How do I fix Sam and Gabe, and get me and Cas back to normal?”

“First of all,” she explains. “You’ve gotta let Sam and Gabe fix themselves, if there’s anything left to fix. And secondly, you’ve gotta give Cas time. She’s young… and she’s got that whole dark and mysterious bullshit about her. She’ll open up to you, when she’s ready. You’ve gotta be there for her when that happens.”

oOo

“Well done.” Crowley nods as she hands the money through the open window of his car. He counts it, and cuts the wad, giving the larger cut to her, and tucking the smaller cut into his pocket. She frowns, and he climbs out of the car. She takes a step back, and he puts his hands up.

“You deserve it.” He explains. “Call it an annual bonus, if you will.”

“I don’t need you’re pity cash, Crowley.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s not _pity_ , love- it’s pride. I’m proud of you for coming back.” He holds her face tightly in his hands, and she tries her best not to look afraid. He leans in close. “It’s all in the eyes Cas. You give yourself away to easily with those.” He whispers. He runs his fingers gently across hers, in the hand which holds the money. “This, is a thank you. For coming back. And… Deano- I’m telling you Cassie, he won't be happy but… what Dean doesn’t know won't hurt him, right?”

After this, he kisses her on the lips, roughly. She pulls back but his grip is too strong, intent on finishing his assault. He releases her and she doesn’t back away, tries to hide the fear.

“Goodnight Cas.” He nods at her, before climbing back into his car and driving away. Cas wipes the back of her mouth disgustedly, and pulls her jacket around her tighter.

It is 1:10, and Gabriel will be waiting, after all.

Chapter Four: Sam and Gabriel

Sam isn’t sure what compelled him to show up here.

He’s outside Gabriel’s house toeing the gravel of the path leading up to the door, one hand clenched around the key to the door. He wants to go in, but something makes his gut twist.

What if he is right, and Gabriel is just too fucked up for a relationship in the first place?

Just as he is about to slip the key back under the mat and walk away, the door opens. Becky stands, her blonde hair messy and dark circles under her eyes. Still, she smiles.

“Hey Sam.” She says, but her voice is more like a whisper than anything else. “You here for Gabriel?”

He nods and doesn’t say anything, stepping inside the house. She closes the door softly behind them. He heads up the stairs, where knows Gabriel will be, but stops for a second, surveying the house. It’s messy, but that’s nothing new. Chuck and Becky both gave up on cleaning a long time ago, in order to make more time for arguing.

Gabriel’s bedroom door is closed, so Sam knocks gently. There is a pause.

“Becky, I swear to God, if you’re crying at the fucking door again, I-”

“-It’s me.” Sam opens the door, stepping in. Gabriel looks up at him, and for once, he appears to be speechless.

“We’re… we’re not okay, are we?” Sam asks. Gabriel sighs, but nods in agreement.

“You think I don’t know that?” Gabriel shrugs, small, sad smirk playing on his face. Sam walks further into the room hovering around the bed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.” Gabriel sighs. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. We both know that.”

“Gabe-”

“-No, shut up, Sam. I’m the fuck up here, we both know that. I’m the one that’s tearing this relationship apart.”

“Gabe, you went through a traumatic experience-”

“- _You went through worse.”_

Sam stops. He straightens and swallows. He’s tried to forget his experience, he’s tried and tried and tried, but there's always that reminder. He throws himself into caring for Gabriel and watching out for Dean, and helping out everyone else around him, but at the end of the day, it’s still there, playing in the back of his mind.

“Yeah… yeah I know Gabe, but you-”

“-See, Sam! This is why we can't work… we can't _do_ this.”

“Gabe, don’t-”

“I’m doing this for you, Sam. You’ve got a future- you’ve got _Standford._ ”

“I’m _not going.”_

“Yes. _You are.”_

“That isn’t what I want anymore, Gabe- I want… I want _you_.”

“Yeah- well.” Gabriel sniffs. “You can’t have me, alright? Now…Please “Gabriel’s voice is quieter than Sam has ever heard it. “Just get out.”

And, as usual. Sam listens to him.

oOo

He can hear shouting as he walks down the stairs coming from the kitchen. It’s strange how used to the constant arguing he had become, spending so much time here. Time with Gabriel. Time that he wouldn’t continue to spend.

Chuck storms out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him, laptop in hand. He walks straight past Sam, not even acknowledging his presence, before storming out of the house. Sam leans around the corridor, looking into the kitchen.

Becky sits at the table, one lit cigarette in her hand and glass of something clear and alcoholic sitting beside her.

“Becky?”

She looks up, smiling weakly. “Sam- hi.”

“Are you okay?”

She frowns. “Yeah… yeah I’m good. I’m fine.”

She doesn’t look fine. She looks like death. Sam wants to help her, but he knows he can't. Gabriel’s right, for once. He needs to start being selfish, start helping himself. It doesn’t matter how vulnerable Becky looks, sitting at the dirty table with her head in her hands… he doesn’t need it.

“Alright, Becky.” He brings himself to say. “I'll see you around.”

oOo

_From: Cas_

_I’m coming over_

Sam hasn’t been home in a while, so it’s as good a time as any for her to come over. Dean hasn’t just _hung out_ with her, spending some time together in what feels like forever. He misses her, almost painfully so.

She slips into the house, and he doesn’t even ask how she got past the front door without knocking. Dean sits up, brushing the crumbs off his lap, before standing to greet her.

He smiles. “Cas, I-”

“We need to talk.”

Her hair is knotted and a little stringy, like she’s just woken up and hasn’t bothered to brush it. Her make-up is dark and smudged around her eyes, almost as if she’s been crying. She’s wearing the kind of clothes he sees her _out_ in, and then her pale form is shrouded by his leather jacket.

“I-I can’t lie to you anymore.” She says.

“What-” Dean frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m working for Crowley.”

Dean’s heart drops. His first clenches, and he can feel the anger boiling inside of him. Just the name _Crowley,_ swirling inside of him, cooking him from the inside out.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

She stands her ground, as she always does. She can't quite stop her voice from shaking, but she doesn’t crumble, or let herself cry.

“I’m working for Crowley again. I’m dealing for him… I just wanted you to know that.”

“How can you work for that fucking creep! After what he did to Sam!”

“He’s different now.” She lies. “It isn’t like you think.”

“What the fuck do you expect me to think?”

“Think what you want.”

“Cas! You’re acting crazy!”

“I have to do this.” Cas says quietly. “And… Dean- I’m sorry, but nothing’s gonna change that.”

“If you do this- Cas… if you keep working with him… I don’t know if- if we can be together. You realise that, right?” he asks.

There is a pause, before slowly, she nods. “That’s just a risk I’m going to have to take.”

OoO

She feels sick and queasy as she walks home from Dean’s place. Her arms are covered in goose-bumps from the cold, after leaving Dean’s precious leather jacket behind.

She _loves_ him, more than she’s ever loved anyone outside of her tiny family, and hurting him, hurts her twice as much. There's a pain in her chest as she thinks of his face, his heartbroken expression.

She knows what really happened to Sam, but she can’t tell him that.

She’s fully intent of walking into her house, straight up to her room and go to sleep. Preferably for several years, until all this shit fades away into nothing.

But Gabriel is sitting on the stairs, and their eyes meet as soon as she steps in the doors. His knees are cradled to his chest, tears shining in his eyes and staining his cheeks.

“Gabe.” She says, quietly.

“Hey, Cassie.” He says, shooting her a quick smile. Cas immediately feels uneasy. Something bad has gone on, that’s clear enough. There's also the lack of shouting and screaming from the kitchen. The house is entirely too quiet.

“Where’s dad and Becky?” she asks.

“ _Chuck_ stormed out about an hour ago. Becky drank a lot, she kept… you know, crying and shit. I put her to bed but- I don’t think she’s asleep.”

“Well. That sucks.” She says quietly, walking over to sit beside her brother, resting her head against his shoulder. “Are _you_ okay?” she asks.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” He says, but Cas knows he’s lying. She always knows.

“No you’re not. Tell me what happened.”

“I think Sam and I are broken up... I think” Gabriel admits. “I-I’m no good for him. I’m too fucked up and I’m just holding him back. Every minute he spends taking care of me, is a minute he could put into his school or… or helping out himself. I think even he forgets that he’s still not fully healed, after what happened.”

“You’re really over?” Cas asks, eyes wide. ”I’ve gotta say, I didn't see that coming.”

“It was always coming.” Gabriel says, sadly. “I’m way too much of a piece of shit for a relationship with someone so fucking good to me.”

“Same.” Cas scoffs. “Dean’s definitely too good for me.”

“You and Deano still okay? I don’t need to go and beat him up or anything, do I?” he asks, a small smile playing on his face. Cas smirks.

“We’re… I don’t know. I don’t know what's gonna happen with us.” She admits.

“Maybe that’s best.” Gabriel shrugs. “Things can change in  a day, fuck- things can change in a minute.”

“We both know all about that.” Cas smiles.

“Yeah- now come on, I’ve got some weed upstairs. Wanna just… smoke and forget about everything for a while?”

“Yeah.”

They both turn and walk up the stairs, just as the landline phone begins to ring. However they both ignore it, continuing upstairs.

After a minute or so of ringing, a message plays.

_Gabe? Cas? I-It’s dad. I’m sorry… about all the arguing and shit. I’ve… I’ve got to go away for a while, about… a week, I think. Just some writing stuff. When I’m back, I- maybe we can sort everything out. Becky, I-I love you. See you soon._

                                                               

  Chapter Five: Cas, Charlie and Meg

One week passes. And then two. And then , on the seventeenth day, Becky officially hits rock bottom.

They’ve run out of clean clothes and Cas and Gabe have resorted to washing their clothes in the sink. Becky smokes all the dope they give her, and on the seventeenth day, she sinks.

She stops crying.

Every day leading up to it, is filled with tears and shouting, calling Chuck, begging him to come home. On the seventeenth day, she stops.

Gabriel gives her a few pills, just to keep her active and eating. She doesn’t even say thank you, doesn’t register the contact between them. She sits at the dirty breakfast table right next to him, and barely glances in his direction. Cas stands in front of the two, ironing a school shirt.

Right, Gabriel thinks. It’s a Tuesday.

“I know you miss him.” Cas says, slipping the white school shirt on over a black vest, buttoning it quickly. Gabriel shrugs.

“That obvious?”

She smirks. “Yep. You could just talk to him, you know. I’m sure he’ll take you back.”

“I don’t want him to take me back.” Gabriel whines. “I mean- fucking hell, I miss him. I do want him back but… I can't do that to him, alright? He’s better off without me.”

“But…” Cas prompts. The two lock eyes, and Gabriel rolls his flippantly.

“But, I love him. Alright? I fucking love him, is that what you wanted from me?”

“Love, love, love,” Cas muses, tying her hair up as she speaks. “What is it good for?”

“Absolutely nothing, I know.” Gabriel sighs. “I’m going back to bed. It’s too early for this shit.”

As Gabriel leaves the room, Cas’ phone vibrates in her jacket pocket. She looks at it, seeing Dean’s number flash on the screen.

She ignores it for a few moments, choosing instead to lean forwards, kissing Becky goodbye on the forehead. Becky isn’t her mother, sure, but that doesn’t stop Cas from feeling sorry for her.

“Bye, Becky.” She whispers. “Feel better soon.”

Becky had never exactly been stepmother of the year, that was for sure. But she had never signed up for what Chuck put her through. She was too young, to innocent; too happy and bubbly for their fucked up family.

Cas’ phone continues to ring, so she sighs, before answering it, walking out of her door.

“Cas.”

“Dean.” She can't help herself from feeling a tinge of pain in her gut at his voice. She misses him, in spite of her own choice to keep her distance.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She says. “But, Dean… listen, I- what are we? Right now?”

It’s the first moment of uncertainty she’s ever had about their relationship. Before, she controlled every aspect. But this time, she puts that into Dean’s hands. She pulls her heart from her chest and lets it beat in Dean’s fingers. He can squeeze it and break it if he wants to.

“I love you.”

“I know.” She can't say she loves him back. She's already given him so much, and that right there, would be the last step. Her words have become the only things she can bring herself to hold back from him.

“Alright, Hans Solo.” Dean laughs.

“I understand that reference now, Star Wars.” She smiles, feeling more than a little proud of herself.

“Yeah, well- I taught you well.”

“You have.”

“Back to us… Cas, I don't know. I- I don’t want to break up but… maybe we could just… take a break?” he suggests. Cas twirls some of her hair around her finger as she walks down the street. Eventually, she sighs.

“Yeah, okay.” She says. “A break. Perfect.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Perfect.”

Neither of them admit that it feels like the furthest thing from perfection. They're meant to be together, it’s _destiny_. And that is probably what scares Castielle the most.

“Changing the subject, how’s Gabe?” Dean asks. “Just, Sam has been moping and drinking a lot, and keeps saying they’ve _broken up_? But I find that hard to believe, considering how inseparable those assholes have been.”

“I know,” she says. “Gabriel’s convinced he's no good for Sam, which may be true… but I hate seeing him so down around the house.”

“Sam won't even go to school , he fucking loves school! I had to kick him out to Meg’s last night because he was starting to get… _fighty_.”

“Fighty?” Cas asks. Dean shakes his head, a silent way of saying _you don’t want to know._

“Can you help, maybe?” he asks, after a moment. “I don’t know what to do Cas, but you know Gabe better than anyone. You're the only person who can get through to him.”

Cas thinks about Gabriel. And Sam and Dean.

And Crowley.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” She says. “But I can’t right now. I just can't. I’m busy.”

Dean pauses for a second, before talking. “Well… alright then. I guess… I guess I'll see you around… Jailbait.”

That brings a smile to her face. “See you around, Dean.”

OoO

“Castielle Novak, this is Charlie Bradbury.”

The girl standing before Cas has bright red hair and pale, freckled skin, a star-wars related necklace and a giant grin on her face, as she outstretches her hand for Cas to shake.

Limply, and awkwardly, Cas reaches forwards, accepting the gesture.

“She’s new here, clearly.” Her principal says. “And I want you to take good care of her.”

Charlie takes Cas’ nod as permission to lurch forwards, hugging her tightly. “Oh, Castielle! We’re gonna be the best of friends!”

“Are we?” Cas asks, frowning. Her teacher, behind Charlie’s back, makes a lifting motion around her back, reminding Cas to smile, be happy. Be _hospitable_.

Cas has never been a hospitable girl.

“Right, of course we are.” Is her lacklustre attempt at _friendliness_.

“Now, run along girls. It’s lunch time, get some sun on your ghostly pale skin, honestly! I thought girls today were into spray tans and sunbeds, but not you two!”

“I can't go in the sun for more than a few hours without burning!” Charlie exclaims, excitable tone still residing in her voice. Cas narrows her eyebrows, before turning, taking Charlie outside with her.

Charlie is talkative, more than eager to fill the gaps between their lack of conversation. Cas just watches, as Charlie attempts to impress her in a myriad of different ways, from climbing trees to climbing knots.

Cas is only finally distracted when a boy approaches them. Charlie falls out of the tree, to the ground below.

“Samandriel.” Cas smirks.

“Castiel.” He smiles back.

“But- but this is a _girls_ school!”

“Samandriel doesn’t go here.” Cas says, smirking. “He’s just broken in, again.”

“Hey, nobody’s gonna catch me, way back here. There isn’t a faculty member for thirty feet!” he laughs. Cas smirks, as Samandriel delves into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette, one for himself followed by one for Cas, which he lights for her. He offers one to Charlie, who shakes her head, cheeks as red as her hair.

“Smoking _kills_.”

“Tell me about it.” Cas smirks, taking a drag. “You still coming tonight?” she asks.

“You still gonna full fill your end of the bargain?” Samandriel asks. Cas rolls her eyes.

“Don’t worry- you’ll absolutely be getting laid, _if_ , you get me my $150”

“I'll do it.” Samandriel grins, before leaning forwards, moving to kiss Castielle on the lips. She turns her hair, so he only catches the side of her face.

“Get me my cash first, then we can talk.” She reminds me, fierceness in her tone that makes him step back, swallowing thickly.

“Alright, deal.” He nods. “I'll catch you later.” He says, before turning, running off in the direction of the fence he climbed through. Cas follows him, Carlie behind her, clutching her oversized backpack.

“What- Cassie? Where we going?” Charlie asks.

“Back to mine.” Cas shrugs, slipping through the same gap in the fence that Samandriel did.

“What? But school!”

“Charlie, listen I really haven’t got the time. Not today. Are you with me, or not?”

If anything, she feels bad for Charlie. She’s a little awkward and makes references to nerd culture that Cas barely catches, and the stuff she does understand is only down to Dean’s input, which almost hurts to think about. Still, she feels a weird urge to take the redheaded girl under her wing, to help her out, for some reason.

Charlie sighs, and follows Cas out of the school, towards home.

oOo

Cas changes quickly before walking downstairs to check on Becky, leaving Charlie alone in her bedroom. Becky hasn’t moved from her position at the kitchen table, and Gabriel sits opposite her, leafing through a magazine.

“You're home early.” He says. Cas shrugs.

“I had stuff to do.” she admits, taking a cigarette out of Becky’s packet, lighting it between her lips. The smoke curls against the ceiling, and she smirks, wondering what Chuck would think if he was here.

Charlie comes bounding down the stairs, hair pulled into two awfully lopsided pigtails, dressed in one of Cas’ short tartan skirts and a black t-shirt, with striped tights and boots. Cas looks at her, and frowns.

“Sorry… I didn't have anything else to put on. But… friends share, right?”

Cas rolls her eyes, and turns back to Gabriel, who is also staring at Charlie.

“Who’d the red?” he asks.

“Charlie Bradbury! Cas and I go to school together.” she says brightly, outstretching her hand for Gabriel to shake. He doesn’t take it, just smirks at the sight before him. Awkwardly, Cas reaches forwards and pushes Charlie’s hand down.

“Come on, Charlie. We’ve gotta go.”

“Where you heading, sis?” Gabriel asks.

“Meg’s place, I'll be back later before I go out tonight, okay?”

“I’m coming with, tonight!” Gabe says, closing the magazine and pushing his hair back. “I need to get back out there- no more of that moping over Sam shit.”

“Who’s Sam?” Charlie asks. Both Cas and Gabriel glare at her, so she closes her mouth, awkwardly glancing to the ground. “Sorry.”

“Whatever. I'll see you later Gabe. Come on Charlie.”

“Is your mom okay?” Charlie asks, glancing to Becky who had been staring at the same, overflowing ashtray for goodness knows how long. Cas grits her teeth.

“She isn’t my mom. And she’s _fine_ , now let’s go.”

OOo

There is a high pitched ringing sound by the time they reach the end of the street. Charlie pulls a bright yellow cell phone out of her bra, and answers it immediately.

“Hi Sally!” She says. “It’s my foster mom.” She adds, to Cas.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Yes… I’ve just left school.”

Cas can quickly see that Charlie is a terrible liar. But her foster mother must be a complete moron, because apparently, she’s buying it.

“Yes. I’m with my friend, Castielle. She’s my best friend, actually.”

Charlie shoots a grin at Cas, who awkwardly smiles back.

“We’re just… out… uh, where are we going, Cas?”

Castielle smirks. “To pick up.”

“To pick up.” Charlie repeats. There's a murmur of voice, before she asks. “Uh, pick up what?”

Cas’ eyes darken as she stops, before turning to Charlie, grinning.

“Drugs.”

Charlie’s cheeks heat up again. “Uh… Salad!” She lies quickly. “Garden. Now, gotta go Sally! Bye!”

oOo

Meg’s apartment is small, but convenient. Everywhere is covered in all of Meg’s little trinkets and ornaments that she used to collect before she got in with Crowley.

She sees Cas through the window and smiles, nodding for her to come in.

Cas and Charlie walk in, Charlie blindly following Cas, awkwardly sitting beside her on Meg’s purple couch.

“I got your stuff,” Meg says, reaching into a cupboard and pulling out a large bag of weed, and a few smaller bags of pills. “Also, I’ve got something else that probably belongs to you, or at least your boyfriend.”

Almost on cue, Sam stumbles out of a bedroom door, clutching a bottle of beer, before throwing himself onto the armchair opposite Cas and Charlie.

“Easy, moose, don’t break the furniture.” Meg smirks. Sam waves her off.

“Hi Cassie- Castielle- light of my brother’s shitty life. Mysterious fucking teenager. What’s up?”

Cas rolls her eyes. “Hi Sam.”

“Oh, this is Sam!” Charlie says. Cas rolls her eyes, standing up to join Meg by the kitchen counter, taking a can of ready-mix vodka and coke out of the fridge.

“Who’re you?”

“Charlie Bradbury- I’m Cas’ new friend.”

Sam frowns. “Castielle doesn’t have any friends.”

Meg laughs at that one. “Alright moose, reign it in or I'll cut you off the tap.” She turns to Cas. “He stumbled over here last night. Apparently Dean threw him out. He’s just been drinking, smoking and mumbling about your idiot brother.”

“They broke up.” Cas explains.

“That wasn’t made official!” Sam yells. “Except for now! Right now, I’m saying it. I’m dumping _him._ ”

“Yeah, okay moose.”

“Seriously! I am! _Fuck_ Gabriel!”

Meg sighs. “Go back to bed Sam.”

Sam pouts, but stands. “Yeah whatever, I’m going. Nice to meet you, Charlotte.”

“It’s… it’s Charlie.”

“Whatever.”

Sam stumbles off into the same room he came from, slamming the door behind them.

“Idiot.”

“Tell me about it.” Cas sighs. “I’ve got Gabe moping at home, and Dean on my case. He wants me to just… magically fix everything.”

“You can do it,” Meg shrugs. “If you put your mind to it, I’m sure you’ll work something  out.”

Cas eyes the door Sam walked through for a few seconds, before shoving the drugs into her bag. “Sure, maybe.” She says.

“So, what do you need all this shit for.”

Cas awkwardly glances to the floor. “I just… I just need it.”

“Cas?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re _not_ ,” Meg says, jaw open. Cas doesn’t meet her eyes. “Please don’t tell me you're gonna be dumb enough to be working for _Crowley_ again.”

“It’s none of your business.” Cas says, teeth gritted before sipping from her drink. Meg folds her arms.

“Your funeral, angel.” She says. “How do you think Dean’s gonna feel about this… development?”

Cas eyes are hard. “He knows.”

“Oh yeah, of course he does- how couldn’t he? You two practically live in each -others pockets, these days.”

Cas shrugs lightly, refusing to meet Meg’s knowing eyes. “Not so much anymore.” She says quietly.

“Come on- you’re head over heels for that flannel wearing moron, and he feels the same. He knows about Crowley, that I can believe but- I can't believe that he’s _happy_ about it.” Meg says, folding her arms across her chest.

“Whether Dean is _happy_ or not, isn’t of my concern.” Cas matches Meg’s disapproving stance. Meg only smirks.

“Yes it is, and you know it. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to storm over to Crowley yet and tear him apart, especially considering what he _thinks_ he did to Sam.”

“How do you know it wasn’t him?” Cas asks, straightening a little. As far as she knew, that information was case sensitive, locked away in a little box in the back of Gabriel’s head and nowhere else.

“Please,” Meg shrugs, face falling from her usual smirk. “You think I don’t know Lucifer’s handiwork?” she leans back against the kitchen counter. She looks like she has more to say, but Cas doesn’t ask. A moment of silence passes before Meg asks, “Can I… give you some advice?”

“Sure.” Cas shrugs.

Meg’s eyes are filled with a weighted emotion that Cas has never seen them hold before. Meg is the most stoic person she knows, more so even than Dean. She’s always on guard, always ready to deny everything rather than let her feelings be known.

“Get out whilst you still can,” she says quietly. “If you don’t want to do it for me, do it for Deano. Don’t think, for one second that that boy wouldn’t rip apart Heaven _and_ Hell for you.”

oOo

Making $180 dollars, for Cas, is child’s play. The most difficult part was probably getting Samandriel and Charlie past the bouncer, with a quick bit of flirting and a bright smile.

She’s got possibly every body guard in the state under her spell by this point.

She sells, Samandriel helps. Charlie takes, more so than anything else, and is quickly found face down on the gritty bathroom floor after merely an hour of being in the club. Rolling his eyes, Gabriel picks her up, and slings her over his shoulder.

Samandriel hands Castielle the money she needs, and smirks. She rolls her eyes, taking the wad from him and tucking it into her pocket. They part ways outside the club, Gabriel reluctantly agreeing to drag Charlie back to their place and tuck her into Cas’ bed, whilst Cas goes off with Samandriel.

“So?” he asks, as they hop on a late night bus. “Where are we going to… seal the deal?”

“Don’t worry.” Cas smirks. “I know exactly the place.”

It doesn’t take them long to get to Meg’s place. Meg is more than a little surprised to see Cas and Samandriel show up at her door at one o’clock in the morning.

“Trust me?” Cas asks. Meg smirks.

“That’s my girl.” She says, before turning and disappearing into her own bedroom.

As soon as the front door shuts behind them, Samandriel is pulling his shirt off. “Right then.” He grins, leaning in.

Cas places a finger to his puckered lips.

“I said I’d get you laid. Not that I was going to fuck you, you idiot.” She rolls her eyes. “I have Dean remember!”

“What, but you-”

“Said I’d get you laid, yes.” She shrugs. “Never said with me.”

“Asshole.” Samandriel rolls his eyes. “Great. Who’ve you got lined up, then?”

Cas smirks. “Don’t worry. You’ll _love_ him.”

oOo

She hands around by the window looking into Meg’s apartment for approximately thirty minutes before she get the photo she needs, with a click of the camera button on her phone.

Maybe she is smarter than she gives herself credit for, she thinks as she looks at the photo of Sam, cupping Samandriel’s baby face and kissing him.

She sends the photo to Gabriel, with no caption, just as she reaches her front door.

“Castielle, what the _fuck_?!” he demands. “Why the fuck’ve you sent me this?”

“He’s moved on, Gabriel.” She says flippantly, shrugging. “So should you.”

“I- No, Cas, this isn’t fair! I didn't think that-”

“That what? That Sam could find someone else to get laid with? Have you _seen_ him, Gabe? Maybe if he wasn’t Dean’s brother, I’d have a go too.”

“You shut your fucking mouth.” He spits. Cas manages to hide her smirk, as Gabriel grabs a jacket, toeing on his sneakers.

“I’m going round there. Right now!”

“Who says he wants you there, Gabriel? Maybe he just doesn’t want to be with you anymore, how about that?” she teases. Gabriel’s facing away from her, so he can't see her knowing smirk, but she can imagine his face. Red and frowny and _so angry._

“Fuck you, Cas!” Gabriel shoots his middle finger at her backwards, tone nowhere near playful for once, before he grabs a set of house keys, and storms out of the house.

OoO

Gabriel knocks on the door, furiously, and surprisingly, Sam is the one who answers.

He’s still shirtless from what Gabriel assumes was a round of cheap sex. It looks disappointing, apparently, because there aren’t any bite marks or hickeys around Sam’s shapely chest. Which is just a waste, Gabriel thinks. The kid in the photo clearly didn't know what he was doing the way Gabriel does.

“Gabriel?” Sam breathes.

“Yeah, hi.” Gabe pushes past him. “How was cheap, meaningless sex with an eleventh grader?”

“ _What?”_

“The kid in the fucking red cap- and don’t bother lying to me, because I saw a fucking photo.”

“Gabe, I-”

“-And I know, what the fuck am I doing, right? I know I sort of broke up with you, but… I guess I didn't think that you’d move on so quickly. I don’t even know why I’m so angry, it’s just- I still love you, obviously, and I thought our relationship, or lack of- meant more than that, you know?”

“You still love me?” Sam asks.

Gabriel freezes. “Shit, well yeah. I do. I do still love you, but obviously, that doesn’t mean anything to you-”

“-I didn't sleep with Samandriel.”

“What?”

“I- I kissed him but… his mom still had his name sewn into his fucking cap. I’m not really into jailbait, I guess.” He smirks. “I guess if I'm honest, I’m really into short, egotistical light-haired guys with… stupidly beautiful golden eyes.” He mumbles with a smile. “Especially the really fucked up kind.” He adds.

“Shit. Really?” Gabriel asks, eyes wide as he looks up to Sam, who nods.

“I- fucking hell Gabe I hate you… aright. I fucking hate you but- I don’t think I can live without you… look at me, I’m drinking and fucking _smoking_. Dean kicked me out the house and I had to stumble here and fucking annoy Meg- because I _miss_ you, okay? I really fucking miss you.”

“I miss you too.” Gabriel says, before pulling himself into Sam, cuddling him tightly. Sam smiles, hugging Gabriel back.

“I love you.” Gabriel whispers into Sam’s shoulder.

“I love you too.”

oOo

_From: Gabe_

_You’re smarter than I give you credit for._

_\---_

Cas smirks at the text, and doesn’t bother replying. That means success, and thank _God_ , because Gabriel was really starting to get pathetic. Cas briefly glances to Charlie, who sleeps soundly in her bed.

Then, there is the beep of a car horn outside, and Cas frowns. She knows what she needs to do.

She pulls on one of her father’s parka’s, quickly and shoves her feet into a pair of sneakers.

“Love,” Crowley greets her, rolling down a tinted window. She folds her arms, bracing herself from the cold. “Want to come on a little joyride?”

She shakes her head, before reaching into her pocket, and taking out the cash. “Here, Crowley- here’s your money. All of it, fuck, more even.”

“Thanks.” He says taking it. He counts it quickly, of course, eh doesn’t trust her, before slipping the wad into his pocket. “Now, you coming, or what?”

“No.” she says quietly. Crowley raises an eyebrow.

“No?” he asks.

“I said no.” she shakes her head. “I can't, anymore, Crowley. I can't keep working for you- I just can’t.”

“If that’s what you want.” He says. She nods her head.

Not another moment of conversation passes between the two. Instead, Crowley simply rolls up his dark window, and drives away, just as it begins to rain.

And surprisingly, Castielle doesn’t feel empty.

She feels _free._


End file.
